


Boo De Grace

by jemdetta



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Halloween, I Don't Even Know, I'm sorry Gallaghers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 13:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemdetta/pseuds/jemdetta
Summary: Miles is the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town. Alex is a shadow puppet who may or may not be secretly in love with him.





	Boo De Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stuck in a horrible writing block, so I wrote this silly thing (which is loosely based on The Nightmare Before Christmas) to try and get started again. To the few people who are reading Threat of Joy, it will be updated soon! Sorry as I've been dealing with work, school and the flu. Thanks and happy Halloween!

 

“Alex!”

Someone’s shouting his name at the door, followed by a series of hollow thumps that can only be made by skeletal knuckles rapping impatiently against wood. Alex’s eyes flutter open as he shifts about in bed, careful not to rip his own limbs off by accident. It happened last week and Jamie was rather grumpy about having to come over with the glue and help Alex patch himself back together again. Of course, Alex would have rather called Matt, but vampires never left their houses after dawn.

“Al, you there, mate?”

Now alert, Alex sits up in bed and checks his reflection in the mirror. He looks as he always does: dreamy, long-limbed, two-dimensional. Tidying his hair a little, he gathers up his puppet sticks and awkwardly manoeuvres himself to the front door. He swings it open just as Miles’ bony knuckles are about to land on the door.

“There you are!” Miles’ face lights up in an ear-to-ear grin that have made many humans faint out of sheer fright. Alex, however, feels light-headed for a different reason. “I have the most brilliant idea. I want to tell you all about it!”

“Do you now?” Alex doesn’t mean to sound dubious as he lets Miles shepherd him through the front door and into his own house. As the Pumpkin King, Miles is surrounded by sycophants who are happy to laud every single idea he comes up with. It’s usually Alex’s job to bring his feet back to the ground and keep him rooted in reality.

“Absolutely, mate.” Miles sits Alex down and pats his knee gently. “It’s about the Halloween Town music festival, yeah?”

Alex just blinks at him uncomprehendingly. “But we already do that every year.”

Miles waves impatiently at him. “Yes, yes. But I’m talking about taking it to over to the other side.” His grin sharpens sinisterly. “We’re going to perform in the human world.”

Alex’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait-- in front of humans? Real, actual humans?” He can already envision people running and screaming in terror, Miles being dragged to what the humans called ‘the poleese station’.

“I know, I know, it sounds like a daft idea.” Miles hasn’t stopped grinning. “That’s why we’ll do it on Halloween night itself! People will think we’re merely in costume!”

“Er, I dunno, mate.” Alex is admittedly a pessimist by nature. After all, he’s a shadow puppet who has to watch out for sharp edges and clumsy fingers, so it’s more of a survival instinct for him.

“You think it’s naff?” Miles’ hollow eyes are huge and sad now, and Alex hates that he’s the one who made them that way. “Just tell me, Al.”

Alex sighs, his paper lungs rustling with the movement. “How sure are you that the humans won’t go absolutely mental?” he asks.

“The Gallaghers snuck out and did it last year,” Miles says confidently. “They played to a huge crowd at Trafalgar Square and the humans were none the wiser.”

“I wouldn’t listen to the Gallaghers if I were you, mate,” Alex says doubtfully. After all, the zombie brothers literally shared one brain between them.

Miles’ tone is now gentle, his skeletal hands folding over Alex’s paper ones delicately. “You gotta live a little, Al. I worry sometimes, y’know. You stay in your little paper hut and your only friends are a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost. And me, of course.”

Alex shifts defensively in his seat. “Nowt wrong with that,” he mumbles.

“No, there isn’t.” Miles’ smile turns sad. “But I would very much like for you to be part of this, with me. Wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there, yeah?”

They sit quietly in silence for a while, at least until they are interrupted by a woman’s blood-curdling scream from Miles’ pocket. He rolls his eyes in irritation, whipping out his bone-phone. “What is it?”

Whoever is on the other line sounds hysterical, and Miles sighs before he agrees and snaps the phone shut. “Sorry, Al, I gotta--”

“Yeah, go on ahead.” Alex musters what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “And-- you know what? Don’t listen to a mardy bastard like me. Just go ahead with your plans, yeah?”

Miles’ smile returns to its full brilliance. “Knew I could count on you, mate.”

***

“He wants to what?” Matt’s jaw drops open, his fangs making him look comically like a startled cat.

“Take the festival to the human world,” Alex says miserably, swirling his fingers in the dish of severed toes that Jamie had ordered. “It’s gonna be a disaster, innit?”

Jamie returns to the table with the next round of drinks, handing over Matt’s pint of blood to him. “Careful, that’s warm,” he warns a eager Matt, before turning to Al. “And what’s going to be a disaster?”

“Miles wants everyone to cross over into the human world on Halloween Night and perform in Trafalgar Square or summat,” Alex repeats, as Nick floats over to the table, eyes wide.

“Is he barmy?” Jamie says, brushing back his fur from his eyes. “How the fuck are any of us going to pass for human?”

“At least you lot can pretend you’re in costume.” Nick waves his translucent hand at them. “I don’t care if you’re Steven Spielberg, no special effects or make-up can pass me off as human.”

“Think it’s a good idea, though,” Matt says thoughtfully, sipping his pint of locally-brewed O-negative blood. “It’s pretty boring, just performing in front of the rest of Halloween Town each year. I’d like to get a proper audience, for once.”

“Oh aye, you’d get a proper exorcism too,” Jamie says, running a critical eye over Matt’s paper-white complexion.

The rest of his friends begin to argue in earnest over Miles’ plan, but Alex just tunes them out and drifts off, lost in his own thoughts. He never, ever wants Miles to come to any harm. Yes, he’s their beloved leader, but he’s also Alex’s best friend and - to be honest - something else that Alex hasn’t quite dared to acknowledge for a long time now.

***

On the night of 31st October, the ghouls and spooks of Halloween Town gather their instruments and begin heading for Hyde Park, where the portal to the human worldis located. Alex and his friends are each carrying a guitar and part of Matt’s drum kit, discussing their setlist and what they’re going to perform. The Gallagher brothers are squabbling again over who gets to use their shared brain, while Miles and his band are singing impromptu verses of Miles’ songs. ‘Die on My Guitar’ is Alex’s favourite, and he finds himself humming along. It’s not long before Miles is walking beside Alex, a bony arm hooked around his neck as they sing in harmony.

The good citizens of Halloween Town finally arrive at the portal; through the veil, they can hear the laughter and happy shrieks of trick-or-treating children running amok, their tired parents trailing behind them. Teenagers and young adults are also stumbling to clubs in full costume, looking forward to a night of getting absolutely pissed. Alex wishes he can drink; unfortunately, his body would get entirely soaked through and crumple into nothing.

“Ready, Al?” Miles’ voice is quiet and confessional. When Alex turns to look at him, he can’t help but fall in love all over again. Miles is everything he’s not: outgoing, charismatic, _special_. He’s been elected Pumpkin King for ten years running now. People are starting to ask him when he will select his Pumpkin Consort, and Alex is honestly glad Miles hasn’t quite settled on one person yet.

But he has to focus on tonight first. To be honest, Alex is more than wary of what the night holds. The humans can’t be trusted, after all. He’s also the one - apart from a hapless Nick - who is least likely to pass off for a human in costume. If they get their hands on him, he’s fucked. But, as always, he’s weak to the silent plea in Miles’ eyes, the one that gets them into all sorts of trouble due to Miles’ shennanigans.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Mi,” is what Alex says instead, because it’s the whole truth. The way Miles’ face lights up is between than a million Halloweens, and Alex lets himself forget his worries for a while.

***

The night goes horribly, horribly wrong.

At first, the humans don’t suspect that anything is wrong at all. The Gallagher brothers get a hearty round of applause at Trafalgar Square, while Alex and his band get calls for encores (as well as a few suspicious stares at Nick and himself). In the middle of their song ‘Dying Lightning’, a drunk human wanders up to Nick and attempts to poke him in the shoulder. Nick dodges him in time, but the drunkard is starting to shout that there’s something wrong with Nick so they finish the song early and hurriedly pack up their equipment so that Miles and his band can take the stage.

It’s Miles that makes the audience shift nervously and mutter amongst themselves. In Alex’s eyes, Miles is as handsome as always in his sharp pinstripe suit and dapper Gucci loafers. But there’s something about his skeletal grin and hollow eyes that make people nervous, and Alex can see some audience members alerting a ‘poleese’ constable who’s already eyeing them.

“We need to go,” Alex tells his friends when the commotion starts to get louder and louder, overpowering Miles’ song. “Something’s not right.”

“I have to agree with Al,” Nick says. He’s been looking unsettled ever since the drunkard tried to touch him. “Let’s get everyone moving.”

Before they can even start to pack, the constable is already standing in front of the band and asking Miles to step forward with identification. There’s confusion everywhere, the ghouls protesting while the humans are starting to shout and throw things: change, drink cups, half-eaten food. Miles is doing his best to calm the constable and the crowd, but as people start shoving forward and knocking over the band’s instruments, Liam Gallagher trips over his mic stand and his brain tumbles out of his skull, landing on the ground with a soft squish.

This is exactly as Alex predicted: screaming and chaos and pandemonium, with a few more enterprising idiots recording this all on their mobiles. Alex nods at his friends, who instinctively know what to do. Matt bares his fangs and hisses at the constable, who shrinks back in fright, while Jamie howls his loudest and scatters the panicky crowd who disperse in the direction of Charing Cross station. Nick pulls his ugliest face and floats through the remaining stragglers who’d been too stunned to run. As for Alex, he locks his sockets and helps a shocked Miles off the ground, urging him to get the bloody hell out of Trafalgar Square.

***

They make it back to the portal at Hyde Park all battered and bruised, Matt and Nick lingering behind to scare off the mob who’d tried to tail them while Jamie and Alex help a shell-shocked Miles stumble back. Alex reluctantly leaves Miles in the care of his worried band members, popping back into the human world to make sure Matt and Nick manage to escape. It’s not long before they all regroup at the pub, Matt ordering a double while Jamie downs straight shots of whiskey.

“Well, that were a disaster,” Nick says, breaking the silence. “You were right, Al.”

“I wish I weren’t,” Alex says miserably.

“It were fun, though,” Jamie admits, wiping his muzzle with the back of his hand. “I mean, while it lasted.”

“Did you see that drunk’s face when he literally saw through Nick?” Matt says with a chuckle, and it’s not long before they’re all bent over in mirth, clutching one another as they laugh and laugh.

***

Miles hasn’t left his crypt in two days. Alex keeps dropping by on the off chance that he’ll catch Miles outside, but the Gallaghers tell him that Miles hasn’t answered his bone-phone or stepped outside since the whole Halloween fiasco. On the third day, Alex is worried enough to take liberties so he lies himself completely flat, slipping through the crack of the front door with ease. It's one of the few advantages of being two-dimensional, at least.

Usually Miles keeps his crypt creepy and spooky, but Alex is surprised - and saddened - to find the place sparkling clean and free of cobwebs or severed heads, his loafers placed neatly by the door. He approaches Miles’ bedroom with trepidation, calling out softly: “Mi, you there?”

“Al?” Miles’ voice sounds hopeful, yet hoarse with disuse.

“I’m comin’ in, yeah?” Alex slips into the bedroom, his throat crumpled with pain when he sees Miles nursing his dislocated shoulder. “Fuck, mate, why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”

Miles hangs his bony head in shame. “After all the pain I caused you?”

Alex sighs. “Look, you can’t blame yourself for that--”

“You told me _exactly_ what were going to happen. It’s me fault for not listening to you.”

“You were right, though,” Alex says softly.

Miles’ head whips up in surprise. “How d’ you reckon that one out?”

“We had fun,” Alex tells him. “At least, Matt, Jamie, Nick and I did. Plus, the Gallaghers haven’t stopped bragging to anyone who’d listen about how the humans love their songs.”

“Really?” There’s a spark of hope in Miles’ hollow eyes. “You’re not messing?”

“Never.” Alex sits next to him on the bed, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest that he is sitting right where he’s always hoped he would be one day. “I told you, Mi. We’d follow you anywhere. _I’d_ follow you anywhere.”

Miles looks down at his hands. “I’d never forgive meself if you were hurt.”

Alex shrugs. “Don't worry about the Gallagher brothers, they've found a new brain--”

“No, I don’t care about the Gallaghers.” Miles’ voice is so, so soft now, his hand folding over Alex’s. “I--I said if _you_ were hurt, Al.”

Alex can’t find his voice for a long time. When he finally does, he can’t speak because Miles is _finally_ kissing him, his skeletal hands cradling Alex’s face with such care that he wants to burst into song.

“Happy Halloween, Mi,” Alex says instead, and Miles smiles back at him, warm and affectionate.


End file.
